


Merlin’s Tale

by Kentucky_Wallflower



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Childhood, Childhood Memories, Ealdor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Growing Up, History, Hurt/Comfort, Memories, Mentions of Arthur - Freeform, Merlin - Freeform, Merlin Memory Month, Merlin’s history, Merlin’s life, Merlin’s story, Merlin’s tale, Mother-Son Relationship, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, Protectiveness, Self-Acceptance, baby merlin, young Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-28 02:59:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10822326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kentucky_Wallflower/pseuds/Kentucky_Wallflower
Summary: A series of snippets throughout Merlin’s childhood. Mostly told from Hunith's perspective, though some is told through Merlin’s eyes.** Inspired by the scene in 1x01 when he asked Gaius if he was a monster, as well as the story "Little Lionhearts" by RainbowRandomness. **





	Merlin’s Tale

**Author's Note:**

> ** Inspired by the scene in 1x01 when he asked Gaius if he was a monster, as well as the story "Little Lionhearts" by RainbowRandomness. **
> 
> This is my first try at writing a story for the Merlin fandom, so please leave me some comments. Any constructI've feedback and/or positive comments are much appreciated.

Hunith was absolutely terrified. It wasn’t so much what the rest of the village would say that scared her, though that was certainly a contributing factor. It was a small village, everyone knew one another, and it wouldn’t take long for people to begin talking.

No, that was not her main concern. What frightened her most was her social standing. She was not a rich woman, no one in Ealdor was—it was a farming village after all. Hunith grew flowers and vegetables, she owned one cow for milk and a few chickens for eggs. She made her living by selling what she could spare from her farm. She had no husband, and could barely earn enough of a living on her own to keep herself well fed. How was she to support a child all on her own as well?

  
Her fear only grew stronger over the next several months, but so did her love for her child. As the child grew bigger, as she began to feel them move and kick, she fell more and more in love, and began to look forward to the day when she could finally meet them face to face.

  
And when that day finally came, as they placed her newborn son into her arms, she had never felt so much happiness. When her newborn son opened his big, bright, blue eyes to peer up at her, Hunith had never felt so much love for anyone or anything in her whole life. Somehow, for the first time in a long time, she felt whole again. For the first time I her life, she felt that she had a purpose.

  
“Merlin.” She sang to him, smiling through tear stained eyes down at her beautiful baby boy. “You’re name is Merlin.”

  
And her sweet little Merlin reached up a tiny little hand, grabbing hold of one of his mother’s curly brown locks of hair, seemingly giving his approval of his new name.

  
……………………………………..

  
Merlin had only been a week old when she first knew, and just like that all of her fears came rushing back, new fears blooming into existence along side of the old.

  
Hunith had been sound asleep, her sweet little boy sleeping in his bassinet at the food of her bed. She had fallen asleep earlier that night listening to the rhythmic breathing of her sleeping son, and was woken up only a few hours later to the sound of his screaming as he cried for her. The new mother hastily pushed herself from her bed and moved towards the source of the noise. She had just reached him and bent down to scoop him into her arms to sooth him—she also suspected he would be in need of a good feeding and changing—when his cry grew louder.

At the increase of her little boys temper, his eyes flashed a brilliant shade of gold for the briefest of moments, and several flower pots that had been sitting in the windowsill fell to the floor and shattered.

  
Hunith let out a small gasp of surprise at the magical display. And she knew for certain that that was exactly what it was—it was magic. She had seen Balinor use magic more than enough times to know what it was. And Merlin was Balinor’s son after all. She had suspected that he might one day develop magic too, but she never expected it to appear so soon.

  
But she had no more than a moment of surprise at the display of magic from her one week old child, as her sons cries quickly drew her attention back to him.

  
“Shh. My sweet little Merlin, it’s alright. It is all going to be alright.” The woman soothed.

  
Hunith rocked her son back and forth in her arms, gently brushing her fingers over the few dark wisp of hair upon his head. She leaned forward, kissing him softly as her sweet little boy began to slowly calm down in her arms.

  
“Do you need mummy to change you Merlin?” She asked softly as she returned to fussing over the little crying infant.

  
She remained calm on the outside for her sons sake, but on the inside she was terrified of what this might mean for her little boy. She knew he would have a hard life ahead of him.

  
“Please, never let a soul discover what my son can do.” Hunith silently prayed. “They’ll kill him. And I will not lose my son.”

  
………………………………..

  
As Merlin grew he began to learn about his magic, that he had magic. For the first several years, Merlin seemed to find his magic fascinating. He loved when he got to use it, and it was always on the little things that he used it—such as calling his boots over to him when he was getting dressed to go out at play with his friend Will.

It was also rather common for the young warlock to use his magic for chores around the house, such as enchanting the broom to sweep the floors, or the dishes to place themselves at the table before supper. He seemed to be amused by his magic.

  
Until the one day when it scared him.

  
Merlin had been 8, and was out in the woods near his house playing. His best and only real friend Will had been feeling sick that day, and the boys mother had told Merlin that he would be staying in bed to rest, leaving Merlin to play alone.

  
Having no one to play with, he had decided to mess around with his magic, to test it out a little. And of course, he knew his mother had warned him not to use it outside of their home, that people didn’t like or trust things that they couldn’t understand. But he was alone and in the woods near his home, so really, what was the harm?

  
And it had been harmless enough at first—levitating twigs and small rocks, making the leaves on the ground spin and blow around him. He had even managed to make a few flowers grow and bloom, despite it being early fall.

  
It was when he tried to conjure a small flame in the palm of his hands that things went wrong.

  
Merlin had managed to conjure a small flame in his hands, but in his excitement over being able to hold fire in his hands without being burnt, he lost control of the tiny flame.

  
The flame grew larger in his hand, and the young boy began to panic. That panic lead the flame to continue to grow before he lost his grip on it. Merlin followed the flame with his eyes as it struck the chicken coop behind his and his mother’s humble home.

  
“Oh no.” He whispered, running to fetch a pail of water and put the fire out.

  
He and his mother only had three chickens, and they were the little families livelihood. They used the eggs they got from them for both food and to sell for money. Even at the young age of eight, Merlin knew that they couldn’t afford to lose even one of them.

  
Fortunately, Merlin had managed to put the fire out, and a quick check on the chickens proved to him that all three had made it unscathed. However, seeing the damage that he had caused filled him with a new fear that he had never had before—a fear of his magic and himself.

  
Hunith had been sitting inside their home, patching up a pair of her sons pants that had worn thin at the knees, when he came running through the house and straight into his room without so much as a single word.

Suddenly growing concerned at her sons odd behavior, she set her sewing material down and stood from the chair.

  
“Merlin?” The mother called as she made her way to his room. “Merlin, sweetheart, is everything alright?”

  
When she reached the doorway and looked inside, she knew that everything was most certainly not alright.

  
Her little boy was curled up in the corner of his room on the floor, hugging his knees against his chest, his head bent down to hide his face against his knees and folded arms. She could see his shoulders rising and falling rapidly, as if he was breathing heavily.

Panicking. Her son was panicking.

  
“Merlin? Merlin, what’s wrong? What happened sweetheart?”

  
Hunith took a few steps into the room, with the intent to go and comfort her son, when his head shot up to look at her.

  
“No don’t!” He yelled, his blue eyes brimming with tears. “Stay away from me…”

  
She froze, her concern only growing to fear. For in that moment, Merlin looked an awful lot like a frightened doe who had been cornered in the forest by hunters.

  
“What happened, Merlin?” Hunith asked again, ignoring her son's warning and stepping farther into the room and moving closer to him.

  
“I set the chicken coop on fire.” He whispered. “I put the fire out, and the chickens are all okay, but… it was my fault. I was using my magic, and I lost control of it. It was my fault mummy, I’m so sorry.”

  
The mother had reached her son now, and knelt down on the floor in front of him. She reached out a hand to sooth his hair back, to comfort him, and he flinched away from her touch. That was when she realized what it was that had him so frightened. It was himself. Her sweet, eight year old son, was afraid of himself—and it broke her heart.

  
“Merlin—“ Hunith began, but her son interrupted.

  
“Mummy, am I a monster?” He asked, and his voice sounded so frightened and small that she felt her heart break even more. How could he even think that?

  
“No.” She said firmly, softly. “No. Not at all.”

  
The mother reached out again for her son, and this time he didn’t flinch away. She took her son in her arms and pulled him to her, holding him close against her.

“You are not a monster, Merlin. You are my son, and you have been such a blessing in life. I am grateful everyday to have you, and to be your mum.”

  
She held her son in her arms while he cried, held him tightly and gently stroked his hair and his back until his crying stopped.

The young boy cried until he fell asleep in her arms, and her clothing was soaked through with her sons tears.

  
Gingerly, she lifted her son up off the floor and laid him in his bed. She tucked her little boy in and placed a kiss on his head.

She could only hope that her love would be enough to show him that he didn’t need to fear himself—to show him that he was not a monster, but a special little boy meant for something wonderful.

  
……………………………………………….

  
It had been early fall the day that Will discovered Merlin’s magic. The young warlocks mother had been terrified when she found out that her sons best friend now knew his secret. But what was Merlin suppose to do? It wasn’t as though he could just let his best friend drown, and so the thirteen year old had used his magic to save him.

  
The two had been off in the woods, goofing a round—both boys had already finished their chores for the day at home, and so they had some free time before sunset. They were racing each other up hill, the first to reach the boulder at the top of the hill was the winner. It was something they had done at least a hundred times now over the years, though Merlin for the life of him couldn’t figure out why he always agreed to race his friend—Will always won, every single race. It was becoming embarrassing for the smaller of the two boys, really.

  
Today’s race, however, was different than all of the others.

  
It had rained that morning, rather heavily. A full storm, complete with thunder and lightning. It hadn’t really occurred to either of the boys that the earlier storm could have created a potential problem. Will was about half way up the hill when his foot slipped in the mud created by the rain. He tried to catch himself as he slid, but that only made him lose his balance even more—fighting gravity never ended well for anyone.

Merlin, still behind him on the hill, tried to grab his friend as he fell backwards and rolled down towards the river below them.

  
The hill wasn’t particularly steep, so it wasn’t the fall that Merlin was worried about, but the river that Will had landed in with a splash.

  
It wasn’t even that Will was bad at swimming that had Merlin worried, his friend was rather good at swimming actually. But the current in the river? It was incredibly strong, and Merlin was fairly certain that no one could have swam against it.

  
And no matter how hard Will seemed to be trying, the rivers current just kept pulling him back under water.

  
“Will!” the young warlock called, rushing back down the hill to his friend. “Hold on! You’ll be alright!”

  
Pausing at the river bed, he looked around. His friend was too far out, and there was simply no way he could reach him to pull him out without falling in himself—and Merlin was not nearly as good of a swimmer.

  
After a quick glance at his surroundings, he noticed a fallen hollowed out log that looked to have once been a tree trunk laying near by in the woods across the river, and just a little ways down stream—where the currents were pushing Will—there was a part of the stream that was a bit more narrow.

  
Not narrow enough for him to reach his friend on his own without falling in himself still, but maybe if he could move the log there to act as a bridge….

  
Without giving it a second thought, he used his magic to move the log across the river so that either side of the wood was on the opposing side of the river at the narrowed part of the channel, and climbed on to it.

Reaching into the cold water with both hands, he grabbed a hold of his friends arm and pulled him back up to the surface. Once he was up far enough, Merlin grabbed a hold of Will’s jacket collar and helped to pull him onto the log as much as he could.  
For a long, terrifying moment, all Will could do was lay there and cough and gasped for air. Merlin could only sit beside his friend, holding on to him to ensure that he didn’t fall back in—he had been too weak to pull himself fully on to the log, and so his legs were still dangling over into the river—as the boy trembled and coughed up any water he swallowed.

  
At first, Merlin feared that perhaps his friend had swallowed too much water and would die anyway, despite his efforts to save him. But once he began his coughing, he knew that he was still alive. After all, you couldn’t cough if you couldn’t breath. Once the coughing fit calmed down enough, and he was no longer spitting up water, Merlin helped him up the rest of the way on to the log and back to the land. Upon reaching the muddy earth, Will promptly collapsed, too weak from his fight with the current and lack of air to stand any longer.

  
He coughed a moment longer, shivering from the cold, before turning his attention to the raven haired boy sitting beside him and watching with concern.

  
“You…you have magic?” He gasped, still struggling to catch his breath.

  
Merlin merely nodded. He had been rather hoping that his friend hadn’t seen that display of magic. “Are you alright, Will?”

  
His friend nodded in response to the question.

  
“Y—you never told me.” slowly, his breath was returning to him.

  
“Please don’t tell anyone?” The young warlock whispered.

  
“Course not.” Will replied, his voice raspy from coughing so hard. “You just saved my life. And besides that, you’re my best friend.”

  
Merlin nodded, and Will shivered again. “Can you walk?”

  
“Think so, yea.” Came is friends responds, his shivering still continuing.

  
“Come on then, let’s get you back to my home. Warm you up a bit. And get you some dry clothes.”

  
Will nodded and let his friend help him to stand, shivering uncontrollably. Merlin was still looking at him in concern.

  
“You sure you’re alright?” The newly discovered warlock asked again.

  
“Fine.” Will confirmed. “Just cold. And exhausted. Extremely cold and exhausted.” He added, giving his friend and lopsided grin, leaning heavily on him as they walked.

  
It took Merlin quite a long time that night to reassure his mother that Will would keep his secret. And even then, a small part of Hunith still feared for her sons safety, despite his reassurances.

  
……………………………………

  
Hunith had noticed a change in Merlin over the years, and it started after the incident when he had accidentally set the chicken coop on fire.

She had noticed it right away, of course, but over the years it only became more and more obvious. Her once energetic, silly, light hearted son had become more reserved.

Now, that’s not to say he no longer made jokes or stopped getting into harmless mischief with Will. And of course, her sweet kind hearted boy still always went out of his way to help their neighbors with their chores or in the marketplace when their arms were overflowing with goods. But he had changed, however subtle that change might have been.

  
She had known why of course. He had become frightened of himself, and of what he could do.

Hunith had done her best to reassure her son over the years, but deep down she knew he still feared the magic he held within him. No matter how kind or genuine her words, nothing seemed to convince him that he didn’t have to fear it.

  
Most recently, he had questioned himself again after an incident cutting down a tree out in the woods.

Apparently, he had used his magic to fell a tree, resulting in said tree nearly crushing Old Man Simmons.

  
When she found Merlin later that day, he had been curled up on the floor just as he had been when he was a small boy, hugging his knees against himself and staring into the fireplace.

  
She approached slowly, not wanting to frighten him, but he must have sensed her presence somehow anyway.

  
“Why can’t I just be normal?” Merlin asked his mother, his gaze staying steady on the flickering flames. “What is wrong with me?”

  
Hunith moved to sit beside her son, snaking her arm around his shoulders in an attempt to sooth him. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, Merlin. Not a thing.”

  
“I nearly crushed Old Man Simmons with a tree this afternoon.” He responded flatly.

  
“It was an accident. Nothing more.”

  
“Perhaps.” Her son paused before adding in a too small voice, “But I still could have killed him.”

  
“Old Man Simmons is still alive and just as grumpy as ever.” Hunith said softly, trying for a smile. It worked, if only for a moment.

  
“He always was rather grumpy, wasn’t he?” He asked with a small lopsided grin. But the smile quickly faded. “Why am I like this, Mum?”

  
His mother could only shake her head. “Because, my sweet boy. You are such a special young man. And you are meant to do something great one day. I know it.”

  
Merlin shook his head too. “I’m not special, Mum. I’m some kind of monster.”

  
“No. Don’t you dare start believing that.”

  
“Why not?” He half shouted, his voice growing in volume. “Magic is illegal practically everywhere. If anyone ever found out about what I could do, they’d have me killed for it. An do you know why? Because magic is evil! And me by default, whether I like it or not. Face it, Mum. I am a monster. I’m something evil.”

  
Hunith could feel the tears well up in her eyes as she heard her son speak, as she watched his shoulders shake as he began to cry. She hated seeing her sweet, lighthearted little boy hurting so much.

  
“I nearly killed someone today.” He whispered, his voice cracking.

  
In response, the mother wrapped both arms around her son and pulled him towards her, holding him tightly. “I don’t believe that. Not for a single second, Merlin.”

  
“Then the incident with the chicken coop…” He began, attempting to argue with her.

  
“And what about Will then?” Hunith asked him.

  
He glanced up at her for a moment. “I—what?”

  
“You used your magic to save Will, remember? You didn’t care if he saw, or what would happen if he told somebody. You only cared about saving him. And you did. You used your magic, and you saved his life, Merlin.”

  
“I know, but that’s—”

  
“And you care about the people in this village.” His mother said, effectively cutting him off. “How often have you gone out of your way to help them? You are kind, and caring, and compassionate, Merlin. A monster doesn’t have those qualities. You are not evil, Merlin. You are far to kind for that.”

  
He nodded, and for that brief moment, accepted her words and found comfort in them.

  
……………………………………………

  
Hunith realized rather quickly that not only was Old Man Simmons alive and just as cranky as ever, but he was also more suspicious than ever.

Every time he spotted Merlin, his eyes would widen and he would turn the opposite direction and leave as quickly as his old frail body would allow him to.

  
Merlin noticed too, and she could see the pained expression in his eyes. It broke her heart each and every time.

  
After several weeks of this, however, it seemed that Old Man Simmons had found a bit of courage. He began watching her son, eyeing him suspiciously, and before long he was whispering with the other villagers. That alone was odd, since he hardly ever spoke to anyone more than necessary, and was rude to almost everyone when he did speak.

  
It was after Hunith had over heard a bit of one of his whispered conversations that she knew Ealdor was no longer safe for her son.

  
“He didn’t even have an axe with him, far as I could tell.” She’d heard Old Man Simmons say in a hushed tone.

  
“Only way to cut down a tree without an axe is by using magic.” The older woman replied with a disbelieving laugh. “And this is Merlin we’re talking about after all. Sweet, kind, always helpful Merlin. The poor boy probably just miss judged the distance of where the tree might land.”

  
It was that very moment that Hunith decided Merlin could no longer remain living in Ealdor. And it was that same night she wrote a letter to her old friend Gaius, asking if he would be willing to take her son into his home. She had informed him that her son could no longer remain in Ealdor any longer, and that she would send her son with a note providing more details as to the circumstances that lead her to this decision, should he agree to the request.

  
With in a week she received her response, and sat Merlin down that night to explain to him. He had seemed rather unhappy about the arrangements, but in the end he agreed to go.

  
A few days later, as he prepared to leave, he seemed rather hesitant. “Are you sure you won’t come with me, Mum?”

  
She smiled softly at her son, knowing she would miss him greatly, but she had to let him go in order to protect him.

  
“Merlin, my home is here. I cannot leave. And besides, Gaius only has room for one more in his home.”

  
“We could find our own place.” He tried, desperately. “Just the two of us. Build a new home together in Camelot.”

  
“With what money, Merlin?” Hunith asked her son sadly. “It’s just not practical, no matter how badly we both wish that it were.”

  
Slowly, he nodded in understanding, knowing that his mother was right.

  
“It will be alright.” She whispered. “This isn’t farewell, we will see each other again. And until then, I know that Gaius will take good care of you.”

  
Nodding sadly, Merlin reached his arms out to hug his mother at the village borders before parting.

“I love you, Mum.” He whispered to her, holding her close. “I’ll miss you.”

  
“I love you too, Merlin.” Reluctantly, his mother pulled herself back, gently stroking his face. “Go on now. It’ll be alright.”

  
And that is where she stayed, watching the retreating form of her son with tears in her eyes until she could see him no longer.

  
……………………………..

  
Merlin flopped on to his new bed face first and sighed heavily. He closed his eyes in an attempt to shut out the dull ache in his back and shoulders from his recent struggle with Camelot’s prat of a prince, Arthur.

Already he hated it here. He’d barely even been here two days and already he’d witnessed an execution of someone with magic, and thrown in the dungeons for standing up for the unfortunate servant that prat of a prince had been bullying. And then, the royal ass seemed to find a new favorite person to bully in Merlin. And to top it all off, Gaius was furious with him for using magic in order to defend himself. Gaius, who was probably the closest thing he had to a friend here—not that he really knew the older man.

  
It was then that he heard the physician enter the room, and for a moment Merlin just stayed there—face in his pillow—hoping that the elder man would think he had fallen asleep and leave. The young warlock did not feel like talking right now. When he felt this way, only his mother was ever able to reassure him. He highly doubted Gaius, even as kind as he was, would be able to say anything to comfort him now. They hardly knew anything about each other.

  
Merlin’s hopes had been in vain, he realized, as Gaius broke the silence in the room.

  
“Merlin? Sit up, take your shirt off.” Gaius sighed, moving towards the bed.

  
With a quick glance in the direction of his host, he noticed the basket of medical supplied he was carrying. With a slight grimace, the young man moved to swing his legs over the edge of the bed so that he was sitting. The physician took a seat beside him and began cleaning his wounds.

  
After a moment of silence, Merlin spoke. “You don’t know why I was born like this, do you?”

  
“No.” He answered solemnly.

  
There was another long pause, Merlin getting lost in his own thoughts once again. He hated when he started to feel like this, but he could never shake himself out of it on his own.

  
“I’m not a monster, am I?” Merlin asked, forcing out a bitter laugh.

  
He had learned with his mother that posing the question directly only caused the other person sadness. He hated that look of hurt and pity on his mother’s face, and he had been hoping by laughing he could avoid seeing it on Gaius’ now. But even he could sense the bitterness in his laugh, and the lack if sincerity.

  
“Don’t ever think that.” The older man said firmly, his voice gentle as he locked eyes with his newfound ward.

  
“Then why am I like this?” He asked earnestly. “Please, I need to know why.”

  
“Maybe, there’s someone with more knowledge than me.” Gaius answered hesitantly.

  
Merlin sighed, looking down again. “If you can’t tell me, no one can.”

  
Gaius handed him a small cup with a potion in it to help with the pain and told him to drink it before patting the young boys shoulder and leaving the room. He only wished he could have done more for the poor boy.

  
It wasn’t until after he spoke with the great dragon and began saving the prat of a prince’s life on a near regular basis that Merlin began to feel as though perhaps his mother and Gaius had been right. That he could, perhaps, use his magic to do good.


End file.
